Waited So Long
by starbuckmeggie
Summary: A glimpse into a moment of paradise. Josh and Donna on vacation, post Transition.


This ties in with So Far From Here, but can be read independently. I think there are maybe two references to that story. Of course, that story is pretty cute, so I recommend it.

* * *

I'm actually in heaven. I don't know how else to describe it. Yes, we're literally in paradise, but everything has been so wonderful and perfect that I'd swear I've died and gone to heaven.

Josh and I have been in Hawaii for three days now; it's better than I ever could have imagined. We got in super early Friday morning and once we made it to our resort, we slept for a few hours. Josh, however, was like a kid on Christmas morning. He was poking at me as the sun barely broke the horizon, telling me to get up so we could go play. Josh Lyman actually used the word "play."

We did get up…eventually. I definitely jumped him first. I couldn't help it. He'd whisked me off to a tropical paradise at a moment's notice, I woke up to the sound of the waves crashing on the beach, the doors to our private cottage wide open. Josh was wrapped around me, his fingers stroking my skin, his morning voice in my ear, and it was honestly more than I could take.

We wound up getting up close and personal with a volcano almost right away, which was more amazing and stranger than I ever could have imagined, an another one of the things I never pictured Josh being interested in doing. He listened to the tour guide, didn't roll his eyes or anything, which felt huge for him, and only seemed disappointed that we weren't going to see the thing erupt because most of the Hawaiian volcanoes are extinct. The same day, we went on a tour of the more scenic portion of the island, and even he was impressed by the sheer volume of flowers blooming. We got to see several waterfalls, each more impressive than the last, and the guide made frequent stops, letting everyone jump off the trolley to take pictures. Josh managed to surprise the hell out of me by getting someone to take our picture at just about every opportunity with one of the disposable cameras we picked up on our layover in California. Naturally, being Josh, he wasn't content to just smile and look happy. It didn't take long for him to get to the point where he pretended to push me of the edge of a mountain or that he was being attacked by flowers. It was such a relief to see him having a good time and relaxing that I didn't have the heart to ask him why he wanted our picture taken all the time if he seemed bored with it.

Ultimately, we saw very little of the beach the first day, not including dinner at one of the resort's oceanfront restaurant. To say I felt deprived, though would be a lie.

The next morning we got up before the sun, partially to actually see the sunrise in Hawaii, but also so I could try surfing. I tried to convince Josh to paddle out, too, but he insisted he'd break a hip. He did, however, sit on the beach and watch, cheering me on. Not surprisingly, surfing was harder than I ever imagined, but after a couple of hours, I managed to stand upright long enough to ride in on the waves. I wiped out hard on a few of the swells, but it was honestly amazing.

We spent most of the rest of the day in the water, first swimming with dolphins then snorkeling, checking out brightly colored fish and corals and getting buzzed by sea turtles and sting rays. Again, not things I ever would have expected Josh to want to do, but they were all his ideas, and none of it to humor me. He actually seemed very moved by his time with the dolphins, which are supposed to be therapeutic. God knows he could do with some healing after the last ten years or so. I'd suggested we stay in our bungalow for the night, but he was like the Energizer Bunny and wanted to go to a luau, and I couldn't say no to that. It wound up being a lot of fun, too, and since it was a Saturday night, they really went all out for us tourists—hula dancers, fire-eaters, tiki torches, drums, music, even an animal roasting on a spit. The best part of the evening, I'm almost ashamed to admit, was sitting on a lounge chair between Josh's legs, watching his fingers absently slide between mine. Holding hands feels so strangely intimate and familiar, and in that moment, I never wanted it to end. I really don't think he even realized he was doing it, either, which only did even crazier things to my poor heart.

We've dedicated today to actually relaxing. We decided to not make any official plans and just see what happened. I woke up once more to the sound of waves crashing on the beach, and the sun was just starting to peek over the horizon. Josh's hands were wandering carefully over my body, his lips on my neck. I don't have much experience with it yet, but waking up next to him has become one of my favorite parts of the day. He made love to me slowly, his eyes only leaving mine so he could kiss me. It was so tender it nearly broke my heart, and it felt nothing like our encounters to that point. We held each other for probably close to an hour afterward, not saying much, mostly just stroking each other's skin and kissing gently.

We had breakfast on our lanai, me all but sitting on his lap the entire time, neither of us wearing much in the way of clothing. We wandered down to the beach a while later, Josh in swim trunks and an unbuttoned shirt, me in a bikini that actually made his eyes bulge. I'm not entirely sure I understand why since he's now seeing me naked on a regular basis, but I'm chalking it up to a guy thing. Personally, seeing Josh in laid-back clothing was almost enough to do me in.

We more or less played for a while, kicking sand at each other, wading into the water and having massive splash fights, calling truces from time to time to make out like over-sexed teenagers, probably looking every inch like a goofy new couple. We had a brief, heated competition over who could find the best shells, but he quickly claimed it to be too boring, which was Lyman-speak for losing. We wandered up to a small, hut-like shack that charged way too much for fish tacos, and had lunch on the beach under an umbrella.

Eventually, we headed back to our cottage, the sun still high over us, and we didn't even make it past the lounge chairs before we tackled each other. We tumbled onto one of the chair, somehow managing not to kill or break ourselves in the process, and for the first time in my life, I got to experience sex in the outdoors. It was actually incredible—even though our room is secluded and the only people we've seen in the vicinity have been members of the staff, and usually even then only when we order food, it still felt dangerous, like someone could walk by at any point and catch us in the act. Hopefully, neither of us will develop a permanent taste for exhibitionism when we return to DC, but seeing if we can get away with it here works for me.

We lay pressed together on the chair for a long time after that, completely naked, not a care in the world. We haven't seen anyone walking down our stretch of beach all day, and even if they did, I imagine all they'd be able to see are our feet. We drifted in and out of sleep until Josh roused himself enough to pull on his shorts and hand me my bikini bottoms. He offered me his shirt, but I just draped myself over him as I settled in once more, content to feel our skin pressed together. I keep inhaling deeply, the natural scent of Josh mixed with the ocean air and dozens of fresh, unusual plants blooming around us a heady, intoxicating combination. His fingers trail up and down my back, somehow soothing me and making me shiver at the same time.

I never let myself hope that I'd wind up here with Josh, and I don't necessarily mean Hawaii. I'm still blown away that we're doing this together. There have been so many times when it all felt like a pipe dream or the ridiculous fantasies of a woman barely in her mid-twenties with stars in her eyes over the man who'd given her a chance to prove herself. To find myself with him like this, just enjoying each other as two people instead of being coworkers or boss and employee who are trying to hide their attraction from one another…it's still mind-boggling. I just want to curl up with him forever, and it seems like he feels the same way.

"What are you thinking?" he asks softly, his fingers coming up to rub my scalp. I can't help but chuckle a little. "What?"

"A man asked a woman what she was thinking. It's unprecedented."

"Very funny. But seriously…"

"You really want to know?"

"I always want to know what you're thinking."

Well, that's not entirely true, but I know he means that most of the time. "I'm thinking about how much I love Hawaii."

"Oh, yeah?"

"And I'm thinking about how lovely everything is here—the people, the beaches, the views, and that I might never want to leave."

"Say the word and we'll stay," he answers, kissing my forehead, and my heart constricts painfully.

"You'd miss the work too much."

"Somehow, I think staying in paradise with you might cushion the blow. Any time I start to miss the hustle and bustle, I'll have another Mai Tai or look at you in a bikini and suddenly be content with my life."

"Such a gentleman."

"Always," he agrees with a laugh, his fingers skimming down my back again.

"What are you thinking about?"

"Everything. Nothing."

"That narrows it down."

"Thinkin' about how perfect this is right now."

"What's that?" I ask, fishing.

"You. Me. Here together."

I didn't have to fish very hard for a good answer. "I'm into it."

He snorts. "I've noticed."

I reach up and lazily flick his shoulder. "You're one to talk. This is the first time you've settled down since we got here."

"You know how I am with inactivity. I feel a million times better than I did at home, though. I just don't like to sit still."

"You're pretty stationary right now," I remind him.

"That's because I don't trust myself to move more than a foot or two in either direction before I collapse."

"You're welcome," I answer smugly, and he gives my ass a gentle smack.

"Well, it _is_ your fault."

"And again, I say you're welcome."

I feel his fingers on my scalp again, this time giving me a careful tug at the back of my head, pulling me up to meet him. He grins at me and kisses me softly, his lips moving carefully against mine. This is another part I have a hard time believing—all the kissing we've been doing. I honestly never knew if Josh was demonstrative in this way, but he seems to have a tough time keeping his lips to himself—not that I want him to. He's welcome to kiss me as much as he likes. He's good at it. He's actually wildly affectionate, which maybe shouldn't surprise me considering how tactile he's always been.

We break apart reluctantly and I sigh, resting my head next to his on the chair's cushion, my nose pressed against his cheek. I readjust my arm across his middle and his arm tightens around me in response.

"I hate to bring up work," he mumbles.

"Josh," I whine. "No."

"I just had a question for you."

I sigh. "Fine."

"Have you decided what to do about the Chief Of Staff position?"

I'm momentarily stunned, mostly because he's not talking about his work specifically. Also, in any of my spare moments, when my brain isn't dedicated to whatever we've been involved in, I've been thinking about my job offer. "I'm still not sure what to do about it."

"Why not?"

"Why not? Well, for starters, I'm not at all qualified for it. I don't have any experience with something like that. I'd be so worried that I'm going to screw up everything. I can think of at least a dozen people right now who would be better for the job than I ever could be."

"Well, that's absolute bullshit."

My head snaps up as I stare at him in shock. "Excuse me?"

"You're perfect for the job. Mrs. Santos wouldn't have asked you otherwise."

"Mrs. Santos doesn't know what she needs right now."

"Not true. She knows she needs you. She knows you're the one she can trust to help her through this and she's right. You _do_ know what you're doing, Donna. You know how to do just about every job there. Do you think that all those years you spent working with me don't count for anything? You learned a hell of a lot about what it is to be a Chief of Staff back then, and I'm pretty sure CJ won't at all mind answering any questions you have. I'll help, too, not that I'm necessarily qualified to give job advice. I don't think you'll need any help, though. I think you'd be truly amazing at that job."

"So, you think I should take it?"

"Donna, I think you should do what's best for you. If this is something you want to do, do it. If not, you know there's always a place for you in the West Wing. I'd love to have you there, even if you don't want to work for me."

My chest constricts a little, and I feel myself choking up just a bit because that's not true. It's not that I don't _want_ to work with him, but with everything happening between us, it's just impossible. "Josh…"

"You know what, scratch that. You can't work in the West Wing. The President-Elect wouldn't waste any time replacing me with you."

"That's ridiculous."

"The hell it is. If you're in the East Wing, I'd say I have maybe a year before he starts thinking he made the wrong choice. If you're already working with me…I'd give it four months. At least if you're working with Mrs. Santos, he might not notice right away everything you're getting done, but there's no way he picks me over you in the long run."

"We're already sleeping together, Josh. You don't have to butter me up."

He leans back from me, looking honestly offended. "I would never say something about your abilities just to try to nail you."

"I know that."

"Do you?"

"Of course I do."

"Because I've always known you were good at your job, and any other job thrown at you. Just because I didn't do anything about it doesn't mean I wasn't highly aware of it."

"Josh, calm down. I was just teasing you."

"I just don't want you to think I'm saying these things about you because you're letting me see you naked. All this stuff is true no matter how much or how little clothing you're wearing."

I bite my lip, struggling to hold back the laughter—he looks so earnest that I can't do that to him. "Okay."

"It's just that…the President-Elect thinks you're brilliant, and you _are_. You're one of the sharpest political minds I've ever encountered, never mind all the other crap you retain. He'd be absolutely right to try to steal you from his wife's staff, and if I'm replaced by anyone, I'd want it to be you. The whole administration is going to benefit from you there."

"Seriously, relax."

"I just don't want you doubting yourself with this job. You're going to absolutely knock it out of the park. You're ready for it, and what's more is you deserve it. Like I said, if you don't think it's something you want to do, turn it down. You'll have no problem getting a different position, in or out of the White House. But, don't turn it down because you have doubts. Never doubt yourself, Donna. You have no reason to."

I bury my face in his neck, breathing deeply. He really can be incredibly sweet when he wants to be. I've known him for too long to not value his opinion of people and their abilities, especially my own. He's the reason I'm anybody today. "I really want to do it," I mumble against his skin.

"What's that?" he asks, and I'm not sure if he's teasing me or he actually missed it. I lift my face from his neck and smile, though I'm sure it's tremulous at best.

"I want to do it. At least, I want to try. For all my talk about wanting to grow and be more than I was, I'd be an idiot to turn this down." It scares the hell out of me—the sheer number of things I could screw up is beyond my ken right now—but I know I have to try.

He grins, tugging me toward him and giving me a quick kiss. "Do you realize how ridiculously cutesie we're going to be? Both of us, Chiefs of Staff? I'm sure the press will have fun with that one."

My heart does the fluttery thing. "Cutesie, huh?"

"The President's Chief of Staff dating the First Lady's Chief of Staff? People are going to think we're adorable."

"Well, we are—that's a given." Despite everything the last few days, what with Josh telling me didn't need a month to figure out that he wanted to wake up with me every day and planning the ultimate romantic getaway and literally sweeping me off my feet, plus with him being so unbelievably sweet, him constantly holding my hand or his arm around my shoulders and all the kissing…despite all that, I still have my doubts about all this with him. No doubts about what I want, but more about this being real. But, when he talks about how it's going to be at home, about how cute the two of us together is going to be, it makes it all feel more real. I love being in our Hawaiian bubble and I'm in no rush to deal with the real world, though I know we need to have some sort of conversation about what happens after this. The little glimpse of the future is nice, and it makes this whole vacation that much better—knowing it's not just a moment in time but the beginning of something.

"The Lyman skanks aren't going to be happy."

He huffs out a laugh, pulling me close. "When are they ever?"

"If they actually catch you out and about with a woman, those message boards are going to light up."

"Are they really still out there?"

"LemonLyman dot com is still alive and well," I confirm. "The numbers are small, but the enthusiasm is strong."

"I'm so entertained by the fact that you troll this website."

"I've got to get my laughs somehow." He pinches me lightly, making me squirm. "I can't believe you're _not_ trolling the site."

"Yeah, well, it kind of lost some appeal after getting into that fight. Do they still care if I'm seen in public with another person?"

"Oh, desperately. You've been very active in DC the last few months, in case you didn't know. Lots of dating."

"Impressive. I see I've finally managed to perfect astral projection." I feel him kiss the top of my head. "This'll give them something real to talk about."

"Not really. They stopped thinking of me as a threat years ago."

"They may have to reevaluate after they see me walking around with my hand on your ass."

"Do that and it'll be the last time you touch it."

"Okay, fine. When they see me walking around holding your hand."

"Better."

I stretch and turn a little, sliding off him so that I'm on my side, looking at him. He turns to face me, smiling gently before his gaze wanders south. His hand comes up, his fingertips dragging gently over the side of my breast. I feel shivers run up and down my spine at his touch, though I can't help but also feel amused. "Fascinating, aren't they?"

"You have no idea," he whispers, actually licking his lips.

"Are you fifteen or something?"

"Hey, you know, I haven't seen your breasts all that many times. I still think they're amazing."

"Well, I can't argue with that."

He glances up at me and smiles, but almost immediately returns his gaze to my chest. The attention isn't entirely sexual, and I think that's the part that makes me almost uncomfortable. There's something about the look on his face that's almost reverent. It's not something I'm entirely prepared to handle, at least not coming from Josh. Maybe that's not fair to him, but he's certainly not the sort I'd ever suspect would want to pay homage to a woman's body this way.

"It doesn't bother you to be naked like this, right?"

"I'm not really naked," I remind him.

"Mostly naked."

"Like this? Here, with you? No."

"You don't think you'll get sunburn, do you?"

He's absolutely adorable and so sweet for wondering about that now. Still, I glance up, looking at the natural canopy of palm fronds shading us. "I should be okay. We put on sunscreen after lunch."

He sighs, his hand moving to my back, pulling me close. He gives me a gentle kiss before pressing his forehead to mine. I never thought anything could feel so perfect, especially not lying mostly naked out where anyone could wander by and see, at least in theory, but this really is phenomenal. This might be what pure, unadulterated happiness feels like.

"I love you."

My eyes fly open and my head jerks back. I stare at Josh in shock. "What?"

The corner of his mouth quirks up and he tucks a piece of hair behind my ear. He swallows heavily and I can see just a hint of fear in his eyes. "I love you," he repeats.

I can't help it—my eyes fill with tears, which I try furiously to blink away. "Josh…"

"You don't have to say it back," he reassures me softly. "I know I'm rushing things, and the timing probably isn't right, but I needed you to know where I stand—"

"I love you, too," I breathe, an enormous weight that's been on my shoulders for years—for so long I'd stopped noticing it—lifts then. I have no real idea of how long I've been holding that in.

He lets out a relieved breath, a look of stunned happiness following immediately. "Really?"

I bring my hand up and cup his cheek. "Of _course_ I'm in love with you. Are you kidding me?"

He grins at me, his face suddenly full of teeth and dimples. He leans in and kisses me, pulling back an instant later. "Just for the record, I'm in love with you, too."

"I kind of gathered," I tease, trying to pulling him back to me.

He tightens his hold on me but doesn't let me kiss him yet. "You don't think it's too fast for me to say it, right?"

"It's been almost nine years," I answer. "I don't think we've done anything too fast."

"I just don't want you to think I said it because we're having sex."

"I don't think that."

"Good, because I've loved you for a really long time."

I choke up again, and try to clear my throat. "Josh, you're killing me."

"Well…sorry. I don't want to kill you. I just want you to know this isn't a recent development."

"It isn't exactly breaking news on my end, either, you know."

"It's not a competition, Donna," he teases, somehow grinning even wider. "Just remember who said it first."

I run my fingers through his hair for a few moments before cupping his cheek again. "Believe me, for as long as I live I won't forget this."

His smile softens and he stares at me, his eyes dark and bottomless. "Can I say it again?"

Dear God, he might be the sweetest man ever. "Say it as often as you like." I aim for confidence, but my voice comes out choked and breathy. I couldn't play it cool right now even if I wanted to.

"I love you," he answers immediately, making my heart pound in crazy, wonderful ways.

"I love you, too," I say without hesitating. "So much."

He fuses his lips to mine in response, kissing me deeply. There's no urgency, no hesitation, just that profound, nameless connection we've always had…except, now it has a name. I have no doubt that I've loved him for a long time, but I never wanted to let myself believe he'd feel the same. Being able to tell him how I feel, after all this time, feels like nothing else ever has.

His fingers dig into my hips, pulling me closer, and I shake my head a little. "Inside," I whisper. He stands without hesitation, pulling me up with him. Our arms wrap around each other and we kiss again, somehow managing to steer ourselves through the door.

My bikini bottom disappears before we make it to the bed. I don't think his shorts even make it inside.

* * *

Anyone notice my total line rip-off from The Cutting Edge, aka one of the greatest movies of all time? Also, it's a nice nod to little Moira Kelly, whose TWW character doesn't ever get a fair shake in fanfic. I'd love to read more where she's not a raging bitch. Same with Amy. I don't like Amy Gardner in the slightest, but most fic portrays her as some conniving, backstabbing, Donna-hating monster, and I think she's a few steps down from that. Anyway…

I've had a bastard of a week. As a result, you guys get a new story. I think that's fair. I'm trying to put something good into the world, no matter how small. Be glad if you're not American, because it seems we value guns more than lives.

I wrote this before Exit Strategy, so then I had to change bits of it to sort of fit in with details from that. It's not that every story needs to connect but…it makes my strange mind happy if they do.


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